Those who were lucky enough to discover Jude on his 1998 album No One Is Really Beautiful all agreed that if there’d been no such word as “songwriter”, they’d have had to invent it for him. His full name Michael Jude Cristodal, Jude was born in Massachusetts. Son of a professional musician, he studied philosophy in South Carolina before moving to Los Angeles where he did a number of casual jobs before the 1997 release of his very first album, 430N. Harper Ave., on a small independent label. The record drew an immediate response from many other labels, including Madonna’s Maverick. He rapidly signed with Maverick and recorded his 1998 album, No One Is Really Beautiful, the record that would make his name in France. Reviewers unanimously acclaimed the vast talent of this new songwriter who, like a craftsman, is better able than anyone to write “little” songs, which are apparently very simple and immediate, but reveal an unrivalled depth and timelessness as you listen to them again and again. Otherwise, Jude has said “I see myself above all as a songwriter”, but for all that, we cannot dismiss his crystalline voice and simply stunning range. Always very autobiographical and literary, Jude’s lyrics are full of references to the world of letters. The title of No One Is Really Beautiful is a quotation from Charles Bukowski, familiarly referred to as “Charlie” in one of the songs.

Three years later, on the day of the September 11th attacks, he released King of Yesterday (again on Maverick), an album produced by Mickey Petralia (Beck, Eels) and Matthew Wilder (No Doubt). With its sophisticated production values, the album did not meet with the success Maverick was hoping for and the label ended its association with the artist.

So Jude had no record company and was sole producer when he began work on his new album Sarah, now in your possession.

Jude had no record company and was sole producer when he began work on his new album Sarah. The result is eloquent: dedicated to a lost true love, Sarah is certainly Jude’s finest album to date. In each of its 9 new songs, we enjoy all the qualities that make up Jude’s appeal: polished, poetic lyrics – such as the chorus from opening track Madonna (no connection with the singer): “You are Madonna, you’re Lady divine, you are part of Mother Theresa and a Valentine, some man’s pariah hand slippery slope, but to me you are the fire and I fly to my hope” – as well as the sublime harmonies and discreet arrangements that enfold Jude’s little world like a jewel case. From Perfect Plank and You and me – two pop-folk marvels that carry us straight back to No One is Really Beautiful – to Crescent Heights (reminiscent of the Doors) or “Your Love is Everything” with its funky beat, Jude delights us with his range of skills. Even when the album ends on the darker Black Superman and Isn’t it over, you don’t want it to finish.